


Going Through the Change

by cakeisnotpie



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint Needs a Hug, Established Relationship, Identity Issues, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Sexual Content, Sexual Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 08:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1219495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeisnotpie/pseuds/cakeisnotpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint's pretty happy with his unbounded domestic life with Phil. Until those freakin' Asgardians show up and mess it all up. Maybe. Maybe not. </p>
<p>Pretty much fluff with some angst thrown in. This is NOT part of my other Phil/Clint stories; this is a complete stand alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Through the Change

**Author's Note:**

> Not part of my Phil/Clint series this is a difference universe/head canon. I've had this plot bunny in my head for a while and needed to do some short drabbles while I'm prepping for the next section of Bonds of Old. Probably lots of errors; I wrote it quickly while drinking and am posting it as is. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Mornings were the best. Waking all tangled up in the sheets, arms and legs mixed together, heartbeat steady and slow as he opened his eyes. Sleep gathered in the corners, hair all askew, lines from the pillowcase across cheeks … Clint absolutely believed that Phil Coulson with bed head was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Of course, it could be the simple fact that he was here, in their king sized bed they’d bought together, under the window that faced east to catch the sunrise. He, Clint Barton, had an apartment that he co-owned with a mortgage and an association fee for the pool and weight room. A master bathroom was just through the door to the left, counter top cluttered with the likes of shaving cream, hair gel, two toothbrushes and toothpaste since Clint didn’t like mint, a jar of Tiger Balm, and Clint’s stash of eye pencils and foundation to cover bruises. Two towels next to the tiled shower, Epsom salts by the soaker tub, and a drawer full of condoms and lube by the bedside.  A lump of fur at his feet who shouldn’t be on the bed, but who could tell a cat what to do? Yes, Clint loved mornings because every day he woke up like this confirmed none of this was a mirage, but his actual, god damned happy life.

Little things, so normal and domestic, were the pleasures of his day. Brushing his teeth after their showers while Phil wandered in his zombie pre-coffee state down the hall to the counter where two mugs … an Army Ranger one and a Darth Vader one … waited to be filled. Padding barefoot after him, just his jeans on, and snuggling up behind Phil to get his own morning jolt of energy, making sure to brush as much bare skin as he could. Trapping Phil for his first kiss of the day before opening the cupboard and getting out bowls for cereal, a healthy mix Clint bought at the Whole Foods to top with fresh blueberries. Discussing their schedules, whether to ride in together or Phil to take Lola and Clint his bike, and simple questions like what needed to be on the shopping list and who was going to stop by the store. Clint never thought this was the very thing he needed … unbounded domesticity.

“The Asgardian delegation will take up most of my day,” Phil was saying. “Pomp and circumstance in everything. The welcoming speeches are scheduled to run almost two hours.”

“I’m up for trainee oversight on the range this morning, but I’m free for lunch if you can get away.” Clint was looking forward to it. Turned out, he was really good at helping the newbies with their aim. Probably the fact that he didn’t give a shit about proper form, just encouraged them to find what worked for them, tweaking and making suggestions but never degrading what was working for someone.

“I think lunch is on the agenda, but I’ll see. Rather have mac & cheese with you.” Phil made no bones about his unhappiness with the Asgardians after the whole London debacle. Showing up and destroying centuries old buildings was one thing – Thor had been saving the known universe– but they left the cleanup in SHIELD’s hands. Again. Which meant Phil was still dealing with claims forms.

“Just let me know. Only thing I’m required for is the meet and greet this evening in the Tower. Thor’s hosting his friends, so Tony’s planning a party. You should see the amount of liquor he ordered.” Clint picked up Phil’s empty bowl and rinsed both of them out, putting them in the dishwasher. Yes, he had a dishwasher plus a six burner gas range, and he adored his Viking fridge.

“Oh, God, I can only imagine.” Phil smiled and Clint felt like the sun had come out in the room. “Good thing I’m coming along to keep you grounded. No repeats of the rooftop fiasco from the last time the Warriors Three were in town.”

“Ah, now, Phil, that would have worked if you hadn’t stopped us,” Clint shot back.

* * *

 

“Clint, this is the Lady Wlythow. She wished to meet you.” Thor ushered the blonde woman into the exam room; like the other Asgardians, she was tall and regal, her long braids tucked behind her ears.

“Thank you, Agent Barton, for allowing me to continue my studies.” She raised her hand; a small device that looked like stone glowed gold. “I would like to scan you for residue.”

“So you think the tesseract left something behind in me?” He asked as she waved the device over his head and along the lines of his body. “Like soap film in the shower, eh?”

“I do not believe this is accidental,” Wlythow said absently, her attention focused on the readings that were scrolling through the air. “Prince Loki used the spear for purposes never imagined; Dr. Selvig’s brain was expanded far beyond human ability so he could open the portal.”

“Wait, wait, you’re saying Loki did something on purpose?” Clint glanced at Thor who appeared just as surprised as he was at this development. When Thor had approached Clint earlier, he’d said the woman was a scholar who wanted to learn more about the tesseract’s effects on Midgardians. Despite hating to talk about those days under Loki’s control, Clint did understand wanting to learn more to avoid the same thing happening in the future.

“The Prince has a certain sense of … humor.” She paused, choosing the word carefully. “He is known to give gifts that most would count as … tricks.”

“I did not know of this.” Thor glowered. “Eric has been ill, his mind addled by the knowledge. You say this is my brother’s doing?”

“Yes, your highness.” Wlythow continued her exam, returning to an area over Clint’s chest, running the scanner once, twice, and then stopping. “Here. He is different than the other Midgardian. Selvig’s modification was in his cerebellum; Barton’s are deeper … there we go.” She paused and then her fingers seemed to dip inside of Clint’s body. For a second, he felt nothing then the strangeness broke apart his ribcage, the pain rattling through his bones. A pull, a twist, and he was screaming, crashing to his knees, his stomach roiling, vomiting into the can that appeared in front of him. The waves of nausea shook him; he couldn’t stop long enough to take a breath much less think as he lost track of time.

Cool hands, familiar and comfortable, stroked his neck; he sat back as things settled, blinking away the tears he hadn’t realized had gathered in the corner of his eyes. “Phil,” he croaked, his voice raw. “What happened?”

“A good question.” Phil’s face turned cold as he looked up from where he crouched by Clint. Not just Wlythow and Thor stood there, but Maria Hill, Tony Stark, and Steve Rogers. “Someone explain.”

“I removed Loki’s tampering.” The woman seemed confused by the angry glares aimed at her. “Humans are not capable of long term exposure to tesseract fueled magic.”

“This is my fault,” Thor said. “I did not fully explain the value you place upon choice in all matters. I should have foreseen the issue. Had I known of the full extent of my brother’s damage, I would have asked Clint for his permission before exposing him to study.”

Everyone began to talk at once.

“Tampering? In what way?” Tony demanded.

“Loki’s done something else?”  Steve asked.

“What the hell? Why are we just hearing about this?” Maria stared at the Asgardians.

“Enough.” Phil’s voice was calm but it cut right through the others. “What did Loki do to Clint and what is going to happen now that you removed it?”

For the first time, Wlythow looked uncomfortable as if she just realized she might have done something wrong. “I don’t know exactly what changes were made, but I believe they are not permanent; eventually Agent Barton’s pathways will reset to his natural patterns.”

“You don’t know?” Phil repeated the words, icy tone cutting through the room, “but you believe?”

A silence descended. “Wlythow, return to the delegation. Assistant Director Hill, would you escort her?” Thor said, and his tone brooked no argument. “My sincerest apologies, Clint. I will have all the data we collected sent to Tony and Bruce, if that is acceptable.”

“I know he’s your brother, but Loki is a right royal bastard.” Stark crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “This sounds exactly like his twisted sense of right and wrong.”

“Aye, he always has enjoyed creating mischief,” Thor said mournfully, loyal to a fault.

“But I haven’t changed,” Clint protested; he’d been thinking about it. “I’m the same guy; there’s nothing different now than before Loki came through the portal.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Phil said.

It hit Clint and he leaned back against the nearest wall. “No. Just no. No, Phil.”

“Wait, what are we talking about?” Tony asked. Steve nudged him with his elbow to get him to stop talking.

“You said yourself that you’d never entertain the thought before,” Phil reminded him.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Just because I never thought it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have.” He had to be right. Needed to be right. “And why would Loki do that? It doesn’t make any sense. Expanding Selvig’s mind served a purpose; what’s the goal behind changing me that way?”

“Loki rarely needs a reason. He has been known to change his own gender to confound us and it would not be the first time he’d done the same to others,” Thor said; his eyes were sad at the thought his brother had wrought yet more pain.

“Holy shit, you think Loki turned Clint gay?” Tony blurted out.

“No.” Clint was vehement in his denial. “Phil, it’s not true. I love you, okay? We were friends before, and after you died, I realized I wanted more. That’s what changed me. Thinking I’d lost my chance. Not Loki’s magic.”

“You never so much as dated a man, Clint. Remember Fresno? You turned that assignment down.” Why was Phil arguing with him? Did he believe that Clint’s attraction wasn’t real?

“I turned it down because I’d wasn’t into the whole BDSM thing, didn’t think I could pull that off.” He felt sick again, like his insides were turning to gelatin, his bones melting.

“Clint, it’s a possibility …” Phil’s phone rang; he glanced at it, then back up to Clint. “It’s Fury. I need to take this. Don’t run. Please don’t run.”

Phil’s departure sucked all the air out of Clint’s lungs. His internal voice, the one that reminded him he was a loser who didn’t deserve someone like Phil, was just a fuck up carnie and nothing else, was starting again. It had been suspiciously quiet for a long time. “No, no, no, no, no,” he chanted to drown it out.

“It’s okay, Clint. We’ll figure this out,” Steve promised.

“I need to get out of here,” Clint said. The next wave of nausea caught him and he was heaving into the can, nothing but bile left.

* * *

 

Med Bay in the Tower was much nicer than medical at SHIELD had to offer plus it had the added benefit of distance from the Asgardian delegation. Far too much wailing and gnashing of teeth was happening for Clint’s comfort then they’d suggested another healer be present as Clint was examined. If he hadn’t been shaking so bad with a spiking fever, Clint would have pitched a real fit at that. Fortunately, Steve was there to use his Cap’s angry voice to make sure it didn’t happen. Logically, Clint knew the Asgardians thought they were helping, but he didn’t trust any of them but Thor right now.

“The good news is we think you’ve stabilized; the fluctuations are slowing down and your temperature is back to normal,” Bruce was saying. “Your electrolytes are evened out, but I imagine you’re going to be pretty tired. Honestly, most of your reaction is from Wlythow’s actions; I’d love to know how she did it. Like surgery without invasive procedures.”

“Yeah, well, it felt like she was ripping something out of me with her hands. So, what’s the bad news?” Clint looked at screen, expecting the worst.

“We have no baselines to work from; all the tests show nothing different between now and last Thursday when we all went through decontamination after the gigantic bees. I have no idea what she did to you; the tesseract energy never showed up at all. Unfortunately, right now the Asgardian data is gibberish; it’s going to take time to decipher and Thor’s no help. He can tell us the numbers but not what they mean.” One of the things he liked about Bruce was that he didn’t mince words. “Probably take another 12 hours to settle your system, but that’s a guess more than an estimate. And I won’t even hazard any projection on changes.”

“I told you, I don’t think there’s anything to find.” Clint was holding on to that belief; he had to for his own sanity.

“Clint, sexuality is one of those things we don’t really understand yet. We can’t point to a gene and say ‘There it is,’ which is why there are so many arguments about whether it’s biologically determined or constructed or a mixture of both,” Bruce said as Tony entered the room. “Homosexual, heterosexual … we don’t have a quantifiable test for that.”

“Yeah, if we count everyone’s experimental stage, I think a good 90% of the population would have to admit to being bi,” Tony grinned. “Come on, you were in the circus. I bet you flirted for both teams.”

Actually, Clint hadn’t. Not even during his years in SHIELD. There’d never been attracted to man in a sexual way before Phil. Wasn’t actively turned off by guys and, sure, he could recognize a handsome dude as easily as a hot girl. But it had been curves and breasts that had grabbed his attention. Still did sometimes; Phil laughed about it and called it fantasy shopping. As long as Clint didn’t do anything more, Phil was fine with it.

“Just because your omnisexual, Tony, doesn’t mean everyone else is.” Bruce prodded Tony in the side, poking him with a stylus.

“Excuse me, I don’t want to sleep with everyone,” Tony protested.

“Yeah, sorry,” Clint joined in. “The Tony Stark rules of first contact: one, are they trying to kill us, and two, can I have sex with them?”

“For the last time, she was a green-skinned alien girl. Jim Kirk would have been disappointed if I didn’t do it,” Tony protested. That story was mostly untrue, but it had gained the status of an urban legend around SHIELD. Tony was the worst at exaggerating it every time he told it. “Anyway, you repeat this and I’ll deny it and cut off your bar privileges forever, you and Agent Agent are as fairytale a couple as I’ve ever seen. If Loki was being his usual shitty self, then he screwed up royally.”

“He was obsessed with giving us what we wanted, kept saying we’d get what we deserved for our service.” Clint shook his head to clear the echo of that hated voice from his mind. “Driving Selvig crazy would make him laugh. Giving me Phil then taking him away? Yeah, he’d do that.”

“Oh, hell, there’s an easy way to figure this out.” Tony crossed to where Clint sat on the bed and kissed him. Stark was a damn good kisser, just the right amount of pressure, lips soft as they tilted across Clint’s. The goatee tickled Clint’s chin, Tony’s mustache prickly as fingers cupped Clint’s cheek and deepened the kiss. Tongue slipped in, and Clint kissed back, wanting to know. Stepping between Clint’s legs, Tony ran a hand up Clint’s thigh, his thumb dragging a line up the sensitive inner curve.

“Well?” Tony asked when he stepped back. “Anything stirring?”

No. Not even a flicker of interest. As flaccid as before, Clint felt a stab of doubt that grew into a hole in his chest.

“There are two problems with this very unscientific test,” Clint made himself say. “One, I’m just not into you. I know that’s impossible for you to believe, but I like quietly bad ass older men, preferably slightly balding with a penchant for wearing the best suits, who can kill you with a paper clip. And, two, I don’t cheat on Phil since he literally does know how to kill people with office supplies and, hey, crazy me, I love him.” Both of those were true, but the lack of any arousal stung. Maybe he should get Steve to kiss him; Cap didn’t know it, but Phil and Clint had this little joint fantasy about the blonde joining them for an evening.

“Clint, you’ve been through a lot today; you’re exhausted,” Bruce stepped over Tony’s sputtering attempt at a comeback. “Don’t go there, Tony. Yes, even you can’t get it up sometimes.”

“Once, Bruce. Once I feel asleep on you, and you won’t let me forget it.” The two of them were like peas in a pod when it came to science, so their friendship surprised no one. The sex, on the other hand, blindsided most people including Bruce. The fact that they were still together, far exceeding Tony’s previous expiration dates for relationship? Unthinkable two years ago. “But you’ve got a point. Test time is over; time to party.”

“Is that still on?” Bruce looked at the clock; it was after 7 p.m.

“Just Fandaral and Volstagg and Sif if she doesn’t escort little Miss Sticky Fingers back across the bridge. That one’s being sent home with her tail between her legs,” Tony said. “They’re as pissed off as Thor; seems we’re their warrior brothers and an attack on one of us is an attack on us all.”

Okay, that did make Clint feel a little better. He liked the Warriors Three and Sif; they were the most down-to-earth of all the Asgardians he’d met beyond Thor. It helped they could drink Tony under the table and liked Midgardian food and music. And yet, he didn’t want to face them, not with the uncertainty gnawing at his gut.

“Are you guys my jailors or am I free to go?” he asked. Realistically, he knew that SHIELD wouldn’t want him wandering around if he was going to get sick or suddenly have glowing blue eyes.

“We can do remote monitoring if you want,” Bruce offered. “The tats are working well. I’d feel better if we knew where you were just in case something happens … make it easier to get to you.”

“And Phil needs to know. He’d kill me with his coffee stirrer if we lose you,” Tony said.

“Just going home. I want to curl up, watch some mindless TV, and maybe have some soup or something,” Clint admitted. “I won’t be far.”

“You’re hungry? That’s a good sign,” Bruce reached into a drawer and pulled out what looked like a child’s tattoo but what was actually a very high tech monitoring patch. It pulled off and stuck to Clint’s forearm, transmitting remotely to JARVIS. They’d designed them for the Hulk so they could find Bruce afterwards and keep a better watch on his transformation but they’d proven themselves infinitely more useful when Tony had slipped one on during a botched kidnapping attempt. 

First thing Clint did was text Phil that he was heading out of the Tower for their place. Phil was trapped at HQ with the upset Asgardians who had insisted on official apologies then wanted to negotiate reparations. They’d asked Clint be present, but Fury had blatantly lied that Clint was unconscious, playing up his status to get what he wanted. That left Phil to represent Clint during what was turning into marathon conversations. Frustrated texts chimed on Clint’s phone whenever Phil could get a second or two free.

Before he got to the ground floor on the elevator, Phil had replied. _Stop for milk?_ He asked.

It was so normal that Clint felt some of his tension ease. _French bread?_

_Yes and cat fud. Be home soon. Want dinner?_

He did. He wanted a quiet evening on the couch together. _Yes._

_Wonton soup and pot stickers it is._

* * *

 

“Ah,” was all Phil said as he dropped his keys in the dish on the table by the door. “Figured it was either _Firefly_ or _Doctor Who_.”

Clint paused the DVD with Malcolm Reynold’s face in the center of the screen, the motion making the ginger tabby curled on his lap lift his head and give Clint the evil eye. “That predictable, am I?”

Sitting the brown bag down on the coffee table, Phil loosened his tie. “Comfort food and your favorite sci-fi. You even broke out Grandma Coulson’s quilt.”

All true. Only two people in the whole world knew Clint’s habits when he was upset and Natasha didn’t know about the quilt. When Phil’s mother had handed it to Clint to take home after he commented on it, that’s when Clint truly felt like part of the family. The patchwork expanse reminded him that he wasn’t alone anymore. Unfortunately, he still ended up sitting and worrying. He was a pro at that. He’d talked himself right out of relationships in the past, self-sabotaging to make his fears truth. Phil had been different; right from the beginning, Clint had accepted Phil loved him. He’d been convinced that this was the last relationship he’d ever have.

“Stop thinking about it and eat dinner.” Phil was handing him a Styrofoam bowl and a plastic spoon. “I’m going to change. Save me some crab rangoons.”

The hot soup was soothing on his throat but it couldn’t wash away the niggles of doubt. This perfect part of his life with Phil, his home, his safety, and his rock solid support. What if it was all predicated upon a lie from Loki? And what if it was all gone at the whim of another alien? His brain conjured up all sorts of worst case scenarios and he got caught up in them until Dum-Dum tried to nudge his hand aside to get to the pot stickers. Clint pushed the cat away.

“You going to share?” Phil in sweats and an old Ranger t-shirt, his black glasses perched on his nose, was a special sight that Clint never got enough of. Lifting the edge of the quilt, he made room for Phil on the couch. “What episode are we on?”

“Halfway through ‘Our Mrs. Reynolds,’ but I can start it from the beginning if you want,” Clint offered. “Jayne hasn’t talked about Vera yet.”

“That’ll do. I’m probably going to fall asleep anyway. For some reason, I’m exhausted. Listening to long formal speeches and stopping myself from punching something takes a lot of energy.” Phil snagged one of the white cartons and ate the rangoon with his fingers.

“Are the talks derailed by this? I know Fury had plans.” Just like so many other nights, they sat with the TV playing on low volume, eating and talking about their day, Phil feeding the cat morsels when he thought Clint wasn’t looking.

“I don’t give a damn if they are. Arrogance, pure and simple. Those weren’t apologies as much as a way to get information. One of them even had the gall to argue that Loki did Selvig a favor, and by extension, you too.” Phil’s face hardened around the edges. “They were still talking when I left. Nick was worried I’d do something violent. He took away my folder. Said he couldn’t trust me with the paper or staples.”

“That was probably a good call,” Clint admitted. Nothing made Phil more dangerous than putting someone he cared about in danger. Clint had seen the man burst into a warehouse filled with thugs all by himself to get one of his agents back.

“About earlier,” Phil began.

“You doubt that I want you. That I really love you.” That popped out of Clint’s mouth before he thought better of it. He suspected, had for a while, that Phil worried about a whole litany of his own imagined faults.

“I wanted it so much, Clint, that I refused to ask questions. Why me? Why now?” He shook his head and sat his food down on the table. “You had pulled yourself out of the darkness, handling it all with such confidence and a new found sense of purpose. You came to me … you never would have done that before Loki; we can both admit that.”

“Losing something you want and getting a second chance will do that to a man. Doesn’t mean it was the tesseract … no, hell, I know it wasn’t because I love you now without any of Loki’s magic in me.” Clint looked into Phil’s eyes and saw his own doubts mirrored there. “You don’t think you’re worthy, that you’re too old, not enough. You’re wrong. I knew for years you were fucking amazing, one of the few people I trust completely.”

“I don’t know what to do about your continuing delusion that I’m some sort of ninja. You know my back gives out and I snore.” That was a standard refrain from Phil whenever Clint complimented him.

“And I leave my towel on the floor and drink straight from the orange juice carton. We’ve been through this, Phil.” Clint sat his carton down and reached over to stroke Phil’s face. “We work because neither of us are perfect. Perfect is for Steve and Thor. I like the way you drool into the pillow.”

He wanted to know and yet he didn’t. In the past, he’d have retreated and obsessed about the possibilities, but he didn’t do that anymore. Phil had given him the strength to face his problems head on. So he leaned in and brushed his lips across Phil’s, very gentle and easy. When Phil didn’t pull away, Clint kissed him again, slanting his head for better contact. Small breath and another kiss then a tentative touch of tongue to soft skin. They kept their hands still, just letting the moment spin out.

“Clint.” Phil looked at him, eyes soft with his emotions laid bare. “Let’s not do this tonight. You’re tired and still reeling from Wlythow’s actions.”

“You talked to Bruce.” Of course he did. Clint did have a habit of not sharing when it came to his medical care.

“Tony actually and I didn’t threaten to taze him. See how much I love you? I believe his exact words were ‘Clint won’t be about to get it up’ and he compared having sex right now to a prostate exam.”

Phil’s arm came around Clint’s shoulders, and he relaxed back into Phil without even thinking about it. “Sounds just like Tony.”

“There’s plenty of time. I’m not going anywhere,” Phil declared and a bit of Clint’s fear melted away. He could do this. They could do it.

“Another ‘sode?” Clint asked, picked up the remote again. “’Jaynetown’ is next.”

* * *

 

Clint slowly woke up as sun filtered through the tinted window. Limbs heavy, head fuzzy from sleep, he shifted closer to the warmth, sliding his leg up and tucking his hand under the curve of skin. Soft cotton against his cheek, Clint nosed into the smell of Phil’s skin. The throbbing pulse dragged him further into consciousness; slow flex of hips and the friction brought a sigh of pleasure.

“Phil.” Clint’s eyes flew open. “Phil.”

He was partially hard, his cock aching as he rubbed against Phil’s hip; the spike of lust was sharp and so very welcome. Lifting up on his elbows he rolled over on top of Phil, lining up their hips and feeling Phil’s own morning arousal as Clint watched his eyes fluttered open, hazy and only half awake.

“Morning breath,” Phil muttered. He really liked to brush his teeth first, but Clint didn’t care. He kissed Phil with abandon, relishing the rush of desire, the way his cock jerked and grew even more as their bodies came together.

“Phil.” Clint tried again, nipping at the line of muscle in Phil’s neck. This time Clint whispered into the curve of his ear. “Fuck me, Phil.”    

That earned Clint a slight buck of hips, hands that flexed and dug into his sides as Clint sucked a bruise into Phil’s skin. Then Phil flipped them over, pinning Clint beneath him in one quick surge.

“You’re up early.” Phil ground down and Clint moaned, at the edge too fast and oh so ready for this.

“I’m up.” Clint opened his legs and wrapped them around Phil. The long hard length felt incredible, but there were too many clothes between them. “You know what that means?”

“That you’re feeling better?” Phil grinned at him.

“That I was right.” Clint wiggled and got Phil to groan in response. “I want you inside of me. I want you, Phil. I love you.” He punctuated the declaration with a hip thrust. “I love you.”

They made love in the early light, stopping only to kick Dum-Dum off the bed when he wanted to settle down near their feet. Phil took him apart, bit by bit, until Clint could only babble what he wanted in incoherent words.  Building slowly, the spiral of heat in Clint’s gut contracted with each snap of Phil’s hips that drove his cock deeper and deeper. A stroke of Phil’s hand and Clint came with a white hot intensity, blacking out for seconds before he came to, Phil collapsed on top of him and breathing hard.

“Well, that answers that,” Clint said smugly. He was feeling completely sated and warm all the way down to his toes. “Whatever he planned, Loki didn’t change me.”

Phil rolled off of Clint and flopped down on his back. “Actually, I have a theory.” Pushing up on an elbow, Clint simply raised an eyebrow. “You’re right; it was all about what Loki needed, not about you or Selvig. He needed the machine built to open the portal, so Selvig’s mind was expanded to do that. He needed someone to run the operation, get all the men and plan the attack … so he gave you the confidence to trust your own instincts.”

Dropping his head back on the pillow, Clint thought about it. It made sense; he didn’t suddenly develop feelings for Phil, he’d just lost the doubts that weighed him down. “I did what I had to without worrying about it. Made the decisions and accept that I knew what I was doing. Maybe made me take the step of pursuing you.” He looked over at Phil. “But the rest? Our life together? How much I love you? That’s all us. No magic involved.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say there wasn’t some magic … after all, doesn’t Jane Foster say that Asgardian magic is really science? There’s definitely chemistry at work,” Phil said.

“Really? Chemistry? That’s what you’re going with?” Heedless of the mess, Clint snuggled up to Phil, planting a kiss on his smiling lips.

“Indeed,” Phil said.

Right there in their bed, early in the morning, with a ginger tabby curling around their feet, demanding to be fed, Phil Coulson, goofy Phil with his sense of humor, made Clint fall in love with him a little more, which, considering how deeply and completely Clint already loved the man, seemed almost impossible. But that was their lives now; they did the impossible every day. At least, after they managed to get out of bed.

 


End file.
